


When We Gamble With Our Time (We Choose Our Destiny)

by NoStrings_OnMe



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Professor!Will, guest lecturer!Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoStrings_OnMe/pseuds/NoStrings_OnMe
Summary: Will teaches an entry-level forensics class at the FBI academy and Hannibal is a guest lecturer. Smut ensues.title from Flirtin' With Disaster by Molly Hatchet
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 102





	When We Gamble With Our Time (We Choose Our Destiny)

Professor Graham pushed his glasses up his nose, glaring at his lecture notes. The words swam in front of his eyes, and he sighed in frustration. Slamming his folder closed and shoving the papers into his briefcase, he turned off the lights and made his way out of the building.

“Will! I’m so glad I caught you!” He closed his eyes, grimacing at the voice coming from behind him. Dr. Alana Bloom smiled, a taller, European man on her arm. With the stress of the day behind him and a cold glass of whiskey in front of him, Will smiled tightly at the pair, gripping his briefcase tightly.

“Alana,” he greeted her, returning her cheek kisses. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too!” she gushed, placing her other hand on her companion’s elbow. “You’re a hard man to find!”

Will shrugged, looking at the ceiling. He thought about his dogs, waiting for him to come home and feed them dinner. “I don’t try to be.”

Alana laughed as if he’d made the funniest joke in the world. “Will, I wanted you to meet Dr. Hannibal Lecter.” She gestured toward the other man, who extended his hand formally. “He’s going to guest lecture in a few classes in the coming weeks, mostly in forensic anthropology.”  
“Pleased,” Will grimaced, shaking Dr. Lecter’s hand. It was cool and soft, too soft for a man. Nonetheless, he smiled pleasantly at Will.

“As well,” he murmured, nodding at Will. He retracted his hand, and Alana looked excitedly between the two of them.

“Hannibal – I’m sorry, Dr. Lecter – is going to talk to your Intro to Forensics class on Friday,” Alana told him, and Will physically restrained himself from groaning.

“Lovely,” he managed, looking up at the ceiling again. He adjusted his glasses again, glancing at his watch. “Alana, I really have to be going, the dogs -”

“Perhaps we could get together tomorrow?” Dr. Lecter interrupted, looking directly at Will. “Coordinate our lectures?”

Will was silent for a beat too long, staring at the man before him. His suit was immaculately tailored, his hair combed perfectly, all in stark contrast to Will’s too-big corduroy jacket and messy curls. He could smell the arrogance on the doctor, which was enough to turn him off of any future, unnecessary meeting.

“Well, I -” Will began, when Alana quickly interrupted.

“That sounds perfect! Will has free periods on Thursdays at 1:00pm,” she supplied, and Will only barely held back a frown.

“Shall I come by your office, then, tomorrow afternoon?” Dr. Lecter asked, eyebrow raised. He was giving Will an opportunity to say no, to back out, but Alana’s eager smile wore him down.

“That’s fine,” Will grumbled, checking his watch again. “I do have to go now, though,” he insisted, waving at the pair as he took off down the hallway and out the door.

“He’s just a little…odd,” Alana assured Hannibal nervously, leading them both to the administrator’s office so Hannibal could complete his paperwork. “He’s really a great teacher, and an amazing detective?”

“I have no doubt,” Hannibal replied absently, watching Professor Graham scramble out the back door. He had plans for the man, no doubt, but clearly, they would have to wait.

“Professor Graham?” Will was awoken by a sharp knock on his doorframe, startling in his desk chair. He rubbed his eyes, pulling on his glasses, and startled again in the chair when he saw Dr. Lecter standing there.

“I am sorry if I interrupted you,” he said calmly, taking a seat in front of Will’s desk. “I thought we had agreed upon -”

“It’s fine,” Will dismissed him, rubbing at his brow again. “Sorry, I just usually nap during my free period. I don’t get a lot of sleep these days,” he admitted, tightening his shoulders when he berated himself for revealing such personal information.

“I can come back at a later time, if you prefer?” Dr. Lecter asked, beginning to rise from his chair.

Will waved his hand, and Dr. Lecter seated himself again. “It’s fine, Doctor,” he said, searching through his desk to find tomorrow’s lecture notes. “I’ll make it work.”

“Hannibal, please,” he said, and Will finally looked up to meet his eyes. “If we are to be working together, I suppose we should be on a first name basis.”

“Hannibal,” Will tested on his tongue, feeling the foreign syllables roll smoothly. “Ok, well, I don’t really do planned lectures, I just kind of write ideas of what I want to talk about…” He trailed off, fingering loosely at his notes.

“Not to worry,” Hannibal supplied, opening his own briefcase and offering Will a thick stack of paper. Each was numbered, footnoted, and outlined to perfection. “I am prepared to accommodate most anything.”

“Jesus,” Will murmured, thumbing through Hannibal’s papers. “You’ve – um – you’ve got a lot here.”

“I understand we only have an hour and a half,” Hannibal said. “I can speak as much or as little as you would like.”

Will listens to the soft vowels roll off the other man’s tongue, the soft lisp of his front teeth. He thinks that he could listen to him talk forever.

_What the fuck?_ He thinks, shaking the suggestion from his mind.

“I can introduce you,” Will says, slowly. “Introduce your lecture. Let you take it from there.”

Hannibal hmm’ed softly. “Where are you right now, in the course of the class?”

“Um,” Will began, searching his paper guides. “I think we just went over the different types of DNA testing,” he told Hannibal. “They had a quiz last Friday.”

Hannibal nodded again, folding his hands upon Will’s desk. Will drew back instinctively, but steeled himself in his chair. “Very good,” Hannibal replied. “I’ll discuss my research in that area, as well as recent developments.”

Will shrugged noncommittally. “Perfect,” he said, rising from his chair. He reached his hand out to Hannibal, who shook it firmly. The grip

between the two was electric, but Will pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. He extracted himself from Dr. Lecter’s grip before walking around his desk and opening the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” he asked, looking off to the side while polishing his glasses.

“I do hope so,” Hannibal smirked, before exiting the office. Will jerked in surprise, staring at the space where Hannibal just occupied, his glasses forgotten in his shirttail. 

_What could that mean?_

Will practically stumbled into his first class that Friday, having gotten little sleep the night before. Between the nightmares, the dogs acting restless, and the general chaos of his head, he was already awake and sipping his second coffee of the day by the time his alarm went off that morning.

He was shuffling through his notes, making a few last-minute marks, when he heard a soft knock on the door. He looked up, startled to see Dr. Lecter standing there, dressed in a finely pressed suit and carrying a stack of papers.

“Good morning, Will,” he greeted politely, either entirely oblivious to Will’s state or tactfully ignoring it. “How have you been?”

Will rearranged his papers absently and tugged at his tie. “I’m fine,” he stated plainly, and waited just a beat too long before realizing he should return the pleasantries.

“Just as well,” Dr. Lecter responded, suddenly standing entirely too close to Will behind the large desk at the front of the room. He laid out his notes and papers, all written in a tight, cursive script, starkly opposed to Will’s messy, dark, scrawl. “How are the students in this hour? Generally participatory? Or more withdrawn?”

Will stared at him for a moment, considering the question. He wasn’t used to interacting with his students, usually just avoiding their eyes while dumping as much information as he could in the seventy-five minutes of class time. He pretended to think it over for a moment, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of Hannibal with his lack of real teaching skills.

“They’re…quietly engaged,” he decided. “Not eager to offer things up, but willing to talk if you open up the floor.”

Hannibal nodded, as apparently this analysis was satisfactory. “Do you mind if I use the chalkboard?” he asked, and Will shrugged, which he took as a yes. He began making bulleted lists on the board, still in that crisp handwriting despite the dustiness of the chalk.

Students filed in periodically over the next fifteen minutes, while Will twiddled his thumbs in his desk chair and Hannibal continued illustrating the chalkboard. When the clock finally struck 9, Will stood, and the room quieted.

“Morning, everyone,” he began. “Today we have a guest lecturer, Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He’s a forensic anthropologist from Baltimore, and he’s going to discuss recent developments in DNA testing and other forensic techniques.” He turned to Hannibal, unsure of what else to say, and was shocked when Hannibal placed his hand at the small of Will’s back and waved at the class.

“Thank you, Will,” he smiled, his hand lingering on Will’s body for a moment longer. “Now, do not be shy with your questions,” he addressed the students again, mercifully removing his hand. Will exhaled as quietly as he could, returning to his chair. He struggled to keep still for the rest of the class, the burn of Hannibal’s touch still imprinted on his skin, even through his tweed blazer.

“Anything else to add, Professor?” Hannibal’s voice shook Will from his reverie, and Will shook his head.

“Nothing, uh, nothing else,” he told the students. “Another quiz again next Friday, as usual. Thank you all for your attention,” he finished, but by that time most of the class was packing up their bags and a few had already headed toward the door.

When the room was empty, Hannibal clapped his hands together, facing Will. “Well, I believe that was rather successful.”

Will made a noncommittal noise, collecting his things and tossing his bag over his shoulder. “You did great,” he mumbled. He was sincere, though; Hannibal had really captured the attention of the students, the gentle lilt of his voice and intense descriptions of the scientific material even captivating Will himself.

“Would you like to celebrate?” Hannibal asked, causing Will to jerk his head up violently, a few papers falling to the ground. He bent quickly to pick them up, but Hannibal had the same idea, causing them to collide awkwardly beneath the desk.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Will apologized, gathering his things as fast as he could to avoid further complications.

“No, it was my fault,” Hannibal assured him, placing his hand on Will’s where it rested on the desktop. “I merely wanted to know if you were interested in a coffee, maybe some pastries, to acknowledge our work together.”

Will’s eyes shifted back and forth, and he cleared his throat. “Well, you did most of the work. I really didn’t do anything.”

Hannibal laughed softly, a musical tone that Will wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

_What the fuck?_

“Will, please,” he chuckled. “You prepared these students for my lecture, you introduced me, and you will guide them through the application of this material. You did plenty more than me.”

Will exhaled slowly, looking up to the ceiling and pushing his glasses up his nose. “Um, I guess, I could probably have a coffee or something,” he allowed. “I just have another class at noon. There’s a café across in west campus?”

Hannibal clicked his tongue. “I do not mean to be forward, but I was going to suggest my office,” he said, and Will’s stomach tightened. “It’s only a five-minute drive from here, and…” Hannibal almost seemed to blush for a moment, but Will was sure that his eyes were deceiving him. “I’m very careful about what goes into my body. This means that I end up preparing most of my meals and drinks myself. I assure you, I have an espresso machine and all the necessary accouterments,” he amended, as if Will wasn’t used to drinking semi-cold, drip Folgers from his second-hand machine most mornings.

Hannibal’s eyes seemed so eager, though, and Will was vaguely intrigued, so he finally acquiesced. “I think…that would be fine,” he said, and Hannibal clapped him on the shoulder. Will braced himself, trying not to freeze at the contact, and was successful enough that his apprehension avoided Hannibal’s uniquely pointed gaze.

“Perfect,” he murmured. “May I drive you? As I said, it is not far from campus. I would be happy to return you before your next lecture.”

Already in as deep as he was, Will nodded without another thought. “Lead the way,” he gestured, swinging an arm out toward the doorway. Hannibal paused for a moment, as if to regard him, but nodded and started out. Will cursed himself internally but followed anyway.

Hannibal’s office is nice, much nicer than Will expected, although he had expected quite a nice place based on the extravagance of Hannibal’s personal demeanor. Hannibal even took his coat the door, hanging it neatly in the closet. Will almost thought to remove his shoes.

“I purchase all my beans from a local roaster,” Hannibal explained, pouring from a glass jar into a small grinder. It whirred loudly, preventing further conversation until the grounds were deemed to his satisfaction. He brought the plastic cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and swirling them before setting it on the counter. “They do small-batch roasts, and source all their beans ethically from South America.”

Will hmm’ed as if he understood, the scent of fresh coffee filling the air. Hannibal packed the portafilter with a sharp tap and a loud _click_ of the tamping iron before inserting it into the machine, pulling at the heavy lever. In a few moments, the coffee began to drip into the small glass, a creamy foam forming at the top.

“What will you have?” Hannibal asked, and Will sucked his teeth.

“Um, just, uh – an Americano?” he answered, searching Hannibal’s face for disapproval. He found none, instead seeing a sly smile. Hannibal filled a fine glass mug with steaming water from the side of the machine, tipping the shot glass of espresso on top. 

“Cream, sugar?”

Will shook his head no, and Hannibal pushed the cup over the counter to him. He brought the mug to his face, the acidity of the beans hitting his nose all at once, but in a pleasant sort of way. Hannibal began to pull his own shot as Will took his first sip, careful not to burn his tongue.

“This is delicious,” Will admitted as Hannibal was frothing milk for his own drink. “I’ve never had anything like it.”

“Of course not,” Hannibal retorted, pouring the milk delicately over his own espresso, lifting the metal carafe to let the foam pour gently over the top of the milk. “This was a limited roast, from Ecuador. Under one hundred bags were released in the States.”

“You’re very talented with this,” Will complimented him, nodding toward the entire coffee setup. “I usually just buy whatever’s on sale at the store.”

He saw a slight crease appear in Hannibal’s brow, but it disappeared quickly. “As I mentioned,” Hannibal said, guiding Will to sit on the plush chairs in the interior of his office. “I am very conscientious about what I consume. I believe that the body is a machine, and therefore it requires the finest oil and parts.”

“That makes sense,” Will said.

“You should really join me for dinner sometime soon,” Hannibal offered, taking a sip of his coffee that left a white stripe of foam on his upper lip. He licked it off almost immediately, but that swipe of his pink tongue was enough to leave Will weak in the knees. “I would love to cook for you.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Will faltered, leaning deeper into his chair. “I’m not really a foodie.”

“Please,” Hannibal _tsk_ ’ed. “I enjoy cooking; it is one of my passions.” He leaned forward in his seat, leveling his eyes with Will’s. “Food is the language of love, for some. To cook for someone else is a great spiritual exercise.” 

Will gulped, taking a much-too-large sip of his coffee and barely suppressing his cough. “Well, then, um – that might be nice,” he admitted.

“Next week, then,” Hannibal almost purred, setting his empty cup on the coffee table between them. “It’s a date.”

Will stood up suddenly, his cup teetering as he slammed it on the table next to Hannibal’s. “Sure,” he blurted. “Really, Doc- Hannibal, I should be going by now…”

Hannibal stood to meet him, inches from his face. “Now Will,” he murmured, hand coming up to caress Will’s jaw. His soft fingers caught on the scruff there, dragging deliciously. “Is that really what you want to do?”

“No,” Will breathed, and Hannibal was on him in a second. His lips pressed against Will’s, one hand cupping the back of his head and the other wrapping around his waist. He backed them up against the desk, Will’s knees giving out and his body coming to rest against the rich mahogany. Hannibal licked into his mouth, his tongue scraping against Will’s teeth.

Will returned with as much fervor as he could manage, fearing he might not have another chance at this. He raked his hands desperately up and down Hannibal’s back, pushing his suit jacket off of his shoulders almost violently.

“Patience is a virtue,” Hannibal whispered against his ear, biting not-gently at the lobe. He shrugged out of the jacket, pulling his tie off in one quick stroke, and returned to his ministrations on Will’s neck. He alternated licks and harsh bites, answering to Will’s increasingly wanton moans.

“Hannibal, please,” Will begged, gripping the other man’s ass tight. “I need you in me.”

“Since you have asked so nicely,” Hannibal smiled, tugging off Will’s belt and pushing his pants down to his ankles. Will sat bare-assed on the desk, legs spread wide as Hannibal stood before him, eyes blown wide and panting.

“Do you have -?”

Hannibal retrieved a small bottle from one of the desk drawers, purposefully ignoring Will’s surprised and somewhat pointed look. He rubbed at Will’s hole with one slicked finger, earning a deep and contented sigh, moving into a loud yell as he inserted a finger to the second knuckle.

“More,” Will insisted, bucking up against Hannibal’s fingers. He put in another finger, scissoring them to open Will wide, slicking his hole up good.

“Can you take another, my dear?” Hannibal asked after a moment. His clothed erection was rutting hard up against Will’s exposed leg. When Will nodded jerkily, he thrust in another, massaging Will’s prostate expertly. Will’s body shook with the sensation, his moans becoming more erratic.

“I want you to come with me in you,” Hannibal instructed, removing his fingers to undo his pants. He slipped on a condom and lined himself up with Will’s entrance.

“Hurry up, then,” Will shot back, slamming himself down on Hannibal’s length. “Make it last.”

Hannibal gripped his hips hard, sure to leave bruises in the morning, as he began to thrust rhythmically into Will’s body. Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders, resting his face in his neck and breathing into the soft skin there.

“Beautiful boy,” Hannibal praised him, nailing his prostate with the next thrust. “I knew that I wanted you here from the moment I saw you.”

“Give it to me,” Will commanded, finally making eye contact with Hannibal. His eyes burned, wide and blue, and Hannibal was helpless but to grip his cock in one hand and jerk him to completion as he emptied himself into the condom.

Will came with a sharp groan, his nails digging into Hannibal’s shoulders. Hannibal sagged against the desk, and Will caught his body, pressing light kisses against his neck and jaw.

When Hannibal gently pulled out, disposing of the condom and tugging his pants back into place, he was met with an incredible sight. Will, reclined back on the desk, glasses askew and fogged from the effort of their coupling, massaging his own dick. He was still hard, come splattered across the hard lines of his stomach and the tip still weeping with the effort.

“You have another one in you?” Hannibal asked, teething at his neck. Will nodded, still uneasy with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Hannibal lowered himself to his knees, taking Will’s dick into his mouth. It was salty and sweet all at once, slightly soft against his tongue. Will wrapped his hands in Hannibal’s graying hair, not pulling but holding him tight against his groin.

Hannibal began to suck, teeth pulling lightly over the foreskin and licking at the head. He hollowed his cheeks, looking up to see Will’s reverent gaze upon him. He doubled down on his efforts, taking the entirety of Will’s member deep in his throat. When the tip met the back of Hannibal’s mouth, Will released, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Hannibal mouthed his way slowly off Will’s cock, standing and wiping on the back of his hand. Will tugged on his arm sharply, bringing the older man into a heady kiss. He could taste himself on Hannibal’s tongue, on the back of his teeth, but that made it all the better.

“So, dinner next week?” Hannibal proposed, rebuttoning his shirt a few minutes later. Will was still reclined on the desk but had finally pulled his pants back up around his waist. Hannibal could appreciate the fine lines of his torso, the sharp lines of his hips that were swallowed into his waistband.

“Is meat on the menu?” Will asked flirtatiously, combing a hand through his sweaty curls.

“Nothing here is vegetarian,” Hannibal answered with a smirk.


End file.
